Down the flowery greenwood glade
      As I chanced to wander,
    From bright eyes a serving-maid
      Shot Love’s arrows yonder;
    I for her, ’mid all the crew
      Of the girls of Venus,
    Wait and yearn until I view
      Love spring up between us.

Another lyric of complicated rhyming structure introduces a not dissimilar motive, with touches that seem, in like manner, to indicate its German origin.  It may be remarked that the lover’s emotion has here unusual depth, a strain of sehnsucht; and the picture of the mother followed by her daughter in the country-dance suggests the domesticity of Northern races.

AT THE VILLAGE DANCE.

No. 22.

    Meadows bloom, in Winter’s room
      Reign the Loves and Graces,
    With their gift of buds that lift
      Bright and laughing faces;
    ’Neath the ray of genial May,
      Shining, glowing, blushing, growing,
      They the joys of spring are showing
    In their manifold array.

    Song-birds sweet the season greet,
      Tune their merry voices;
    Sound the ways with hymns of praise,
      Every lane rejoices. 
    On the bough in greenwood now
      Flowers are springing, perfumes flinging,
      While young men and maids are clinging
    To the loves they scarce avow.

    O’er the grass together pass
      Bands of lads love-laden: 
    Row by row in bevies go
      Bride and blushing maiden. 
    See with glee ’neath linden-tree,
      Where the dancing girls are glancing,
      How the matron is advancing! 
    At her side her daughter see!

    She’s my own, for whom alone,
      If fate wills, I’ll tarry;
    Young May-moon, or late or soon,
      ’Tis with her I’d marry! 
    Now with sighs I watch her rise,
      She the purely loved, the surely
      Chosen, who my heart securely
    Turns from grief to Paradise.

    In her sight with heaven’s own light
      Like the gods I blossom;
    Care for nought till she be brought
      Yielding to my bosom. 
    Thirst divine my soul doth pine
      To behold her and enfold her,
      With clasped arms alone to hold her
    In Love’s holy hidden shrine.

But the theme of the dance is worked up with even greater elaboration and a more studied ingenuity of rhyme and rhythm in the following characteristic song.  This has the true accent of what may be called the Musa Vagabundula, and is one of the best lyrics of the series:—­

INVITATION TO THE DANCE.

No. 23.

Cast aside dull books and thought;
Sweet is folly, sweet is play: 
Take the pleasure Spring hath brought
In youth’s opening holiday! 
Right it is old age should ponder
On grave matters fraught with care;
Tender youth is free to wander,
Free to frolic light as air. 
Like a dream our prime is flown,
Prisoned in a study: 
Sport and folly are youth’s own,
Tender youth and ruddy.